


It All Was a Decoration to Their Connection

by justsimplymeagain



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over his shoulder and covering the walls and floor of this cave were claw marks that were over fifty years old. All made in their throws of passion and hatred. All of it a decoration to their connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Was a Decoration to Their Connection

Inhaling deeply through his nose he picked up over a thousand different scents, some stationary and some that carried on the wind. He wasn't a tracker for nothing, and he was the best at it. Most thought that sawed off punk was, but what did they know. The whelp had limitations, morals and baggage. All of which Victor Creed didn't have, and why should he? Limitations and morals and extra baggage were all things that were next to useless to him. It all ends up wrong in the end anyhow.

He was hunting.

And he had a special kind of prey in mind today, and the date of the year lined up beautifully to what he was hunting. Birthdays were so much fun.

The tracks he followed were light, but he could taste the residue of the runt and the scent left behind. Scents don't lie, and the other senses always had ways of being tricked. It's why his nose was just as vital as his other senses; it was the same for the runt too. Most people don't really comprehend what it means of having enhanced senses. His eyesight was better, far more enhanced then normal twenty-twenty. His hearing was enhanced; he could literally hear the sound of light. His ability to smell things was enhanced, he could differentiate two of the same products that only have a sliver of a difference as easy as it was to smell two different scents altogether. His sense of taste was enhanced, and it was funny how he wasn't entirely picky on what he ate. Even the sense of touch was enhanced, easy to arouse and easy to hurt.

He was an apex predator in modern times, all of his senses coupled with the mind of an animal and a man shoved together.

It was the same with the runt.

They were the same, two sides of the same coin. Or like that little Chinese symbol, Ying and Yang. Split right down the middle, and most folks didn't see it clearly. Pity for them.

The wind shifted, so did the direction of his prey. He didn't feel the cold of the snow or the nipping wind touching bare skin where his shirt should have been. Dried blood in easy triple lines covered his sides, back and chest. Decorating his upper body with his own blood. He didn't care though, blood never bothered him any. The sound of a twig snapping, an irritated low growl and Victor darted towards it and his claws were out and ready to cut and slash and sink into his prey.

A roar.

Snikt.

And they clashed savagely; words were lost as blood was spilt on snow. His prey's hair grown out came across as more of a thick horned mane now that it was left to nature rather then cut to fit in. Victor's own blond hair was long and messy. More fitting. They separated, wounds healing and teeth bared in ongoing snarls and growls. His prey was crouched low, foot long metallic claws facing up and gleaming with threatening poise.

They were both enjoying themselves out here in the wild, away from civilization and its dogma's and wants and restrictions and expectations. They were free here. Free to be more then what society saw when looking at them and seeing only enemies.

The forest around them was silent; any living form that was here was either hibernating or gone from the area. Victor didn't care about that; his attention was on his personal prey that perked up enough to show he was going to charge. Victor curled his fingers into the snow and did the same. They met in the middle, claws and fists and knees and feet were dished out in savage attacks. Merciless and unforgiving. Their bodies pushed past what others could take, but neither slowed down or held back.

They didn't have to. When they clashed they always gave it their all. When they hated each other, they did so with a passion. When they loved each other, it was impossible to separate them. When they were pack, they were unbreakable. No one truly understood that though. And that was for one reason only; they didn't want people to understand. This was their world, and no matter who may come into their lives outside of each other they never gained that right. And they never will.

Their fight took them over a creek; it caved in under their combined weight plunging them both into cold water.

But that didn't stop the fight; they just kept at it and carried on over the landscape with a wild frenzy that would shake those who knew them to the core. Only did it end when day turned to night and a cave that was their very own cave used over time as their own personal cabin and getaway.

Victor won over his prey this night and found himself straddling one leg of the runt's while the other was hooked over his own leaving them connected and close. The cold of their wet pants contrasted sharply to the heat their bodies naturally gave off. There was no fire, they didn't need it. And they could see pretty well in the dark. Once more, those handy enhanced senses working in their favor. Just like the enhanced sense of touch. The runt, his prey, had a frustrated expression on his face and curled into a snarl that had little heat behind it. Blood stained his lips but it was Victor's blood and not so much the runts, from their biting kiss. He rather did like seeing that affect, and the blood. He always licked it away. It was odd for Victor to taste his own blood on the runt's lips. Odd but pleasing.

Over his shoulder and covering the walls and floor of this cave were claw marks that were over fifty years old. All made in their throws of passion and hatred. All of it a decoration to their connection. A personal sign of their world. A decoration to it. And Victor always planned on adding more to it; have this whole cave carved up in endless decorations of claw marks and gouges made in the stone ground. And should anyone step foot in their cave, Victor would hunt them down and decorate their little getaway's with some not so nice decorations.

Sinking his sharp talons into the hard ground on either end of his prey's head he leaned down until they were nose to nose, a grin was on his face and a silent snarl on the runts. But his eyes spoke of his interest. And that was enough for Victor.

Time to add more markings to their cave…


End file.
